


More than an Ocean

by AngelPair



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel pair, EngIta - Freeform, ItaEng, M/M, Merfolk AU, Merman!Arthur, merfolk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 20:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10952448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelPair/pseuds/AngelPair
Summary: Feliciano's terrifying adventure into an abandoned laboratory may have been harrowing, but it all ends well when he rescues a new friend.From a list of starter prompts on Tumblr. Prompt was “Oh my god, what is this place? How can you still be alive? I’ll get you help! Please hold on.”





	More than an Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers <3 This is another work from my writing blog (angel-log.tumblr.com) that I thought was long enough to be worthy of posting over here.
> 
> Original: https://angel-log.tumblr.com/post/160745977179/i-hear-you-love-engita-so-that-and-oh-my-god
> 
> Works from that blog wont always end up over here but when they're supposed to be drabbles and they come out to 4k + then they just might :P
> 
> Please enjoy. Be cautious if you are sensitive as there are some distressing themes of starvation and dehydration.

Muttered prayers – rapid Italian – and his own footsteps, crunching over the litter and debris, were all that was audible within the lab’s walls.

 

If Feliciano ever cursed - which of course he didn’t, that was a bad thing to do - he would have been cursing himself right now. Why was he like this? If he wasn’t so weak, so pitiful, this mission would have been nothing. A quick trip into a small, abandoned laboratory to retrieve his backpack. In and out of the harmless front office, no more than five minutes.

 

In fact, if he weren’t so weak and pitiful he wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. He wouldn’t have been the target, wouldn’t have been the one grabbed by bullies, dragged off the track into the forest only to have his backpack stolen and taken into that dreaded, abandoned laboratory. They had taunted him to come and get it, whilst Feliciano had hid up a tree, until they had gotten bored and left.

 

All of this – all this fear and suffering – all because he was such a pathetic scaredy-cat. It wasn’t something he always went through but his friends couldn’t be by his side to protect him all the time. Every so often, the bullies found an opportunity, this time his neighbour Elizaveta being off sick and Feliciano walking home alone.

 

The building wasn’t even _that_ scary, _that_ abandoned. The place had been looted already, everything in the office scattered, graffiti covering all the walls and empty cans littering the surfaces. As happened to anything found abandoned and unsecured, it had become a teenage hangout for the rebellious who needed a place to chug down and shoot-up away from parental eyes. Even more pathetic still was that it wasn’t even dark out. Only four in the afternoon, still autumn, there were a few hours of light yet. And even so, Feliciano was terrified. Not even trembling – every muscle too tense, his stomach churning but his lungs and throat squeezed so tightly closed that he could hardly breathe.

 

A little light-headed, he finally spotted his backpack, but relief was only momentary when he realised that it had been unzipped and his belongings were scattered everywhere.

 

“No,” he whimpered, realising that this would be more than popping in and out and fleeing back home. _Why why why._

 

He set about it as quickly as he could, gathering only what he needed. Expensive paint supplies – yes, pencils from the dollar store – no. Gym shorts, textbooks – they hadn’t gone far at least – his phone, oh goodness, where was his phone? His grandfather would buy him a new one without complaint but Feliciano was desperate not to disappoint the man twice in one year by losing the same, expensive object. He searched, a little desperately, not like the lab could become any more of a mess. No sign of it. He almost gave up and left before the silence of the lab was replaced by a shrill beep.

 

At first, Feliciano jumped backwards and froze – nearly dropping all of his gathered belongings – before he realised what it was. A text notification, his own ringtone. He was relieved that the phone seemed to be near, but trembled as he pushed on, left-over shock making him jittery. The phone beeped again – probably his brother texting him to ask where he was - and Feliciano frowned, confused. The phone could be heard but it wasn’t visible… it was in the next room. He whimpered as he slowly nudged open the door, wary of the broken glass panels ready to shatter onto his head. This room wasn’t like the front office and reception – Feliciano wasn’t really sure what it was at all. It looked almost like an operating theatre and a doctors office in one, a little surprising for what was supposed to be a scientific laboratory. There was as much graffiti and litter as in the last room, but it was much darker, and much creepier, Feliciano’s stomach twisted in terror.

 

The phone, thankfully, was still lit from the last text that had been sent. It had evidently been thrown into the room through a glass window on the door, and was surrounded by little shards. It seemed to be unfortunately wedged between some exposed floorboards, and Feliciano hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to retrieve.

 

Nudging as much as the glass away as he could with his shoe, he approached carefully, trying to wiggle the phone free without cutting himself. No success. With his fingers, he tried to widen the small gap, wondering if the wood had some give. It did, but not in the way Feliciano had expected. The wood lifted, to his slight surprise, at the same time as a tiny shard of the glass wedged its way into his hand. He jumped back, startled by the mild but sharp pain. The phone clattered away under the floor board.

 

“Oh no,” he whined quietly to himself as he stared at the spot where his phone had been moments earlier. Would he be able get it back now? The board had lifted easily but who knew how much space there was underneath the floor. Feliciano wasn’t an architect, but he didn’t want to disappoint his grandfather, so he at to at least try.

 

This time, he made more of an effort to brush away the glass. Once there was an area clear enough for him to kneel, he settled down, pulling a face at the grubby floor. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to see down there and he was dreading reaching his hand into the possibly filthy unknown. What if he was bitten by a mouse, or a spider crawled up his arm? Taking a deep breath, and knowing he had to do this, Feliciano went to lift the board again.

 

He blinked in surprise, hovering with the board half raised above him. It hadn’t been visible under the linoleum, but what he was raising was not a floorboard at all. It was a trap door. Did that mean there was storage down there? Or a basement? He lifted it fully, the linoleum coming with it, and as scared as he was, Feliciano couldn’t help but feel curious. This trap door, before the linoleum had been worn away, would have been well hidden. But _what_ had been hidden, and why? Was it worth going down to find out or was that just a really bad, horror movie worthy idea?

 

Fortunately, immediately under the trap door was a staircase. On the second step, barely visible, was Feliciano’s phone. He snatched it up quickly, turning on the flashlight and trying to see as deep into to the darkness as he could. Some ropes dangled vertically from the wooden boards of the floor, making make-shift holds, probably to help with the ascent and descent of the slightly precarious staircase. Nothing much else could be seen, except a few old buckets and bails lying around at the very bottom of the steps. There was a terrible stench, possibly coming from one plastic bail in particular. It was festering with overgrown mould, and clearly had something consumable in it before the place had been abandoned. Feliciano screwed up his nose and fought the urge to gag.

 

He was trembling now. Down the steps was dark and scary and smelly. But curiosity was gnawing at his chest and he really, really wanted to see what was down there before he left. He chewed his lip nervously, gave one last glance around the room and all its strange equipment. He had the flashlight on his phone, there was signal in the building, it was still day-time outside, and the trapdoor had no lock if it somehow managed to close. He had nothing to lose, really…except his mind. Feliciano took one deep breath before pulling his sweater up over his nose and, with great caution, beginning his descent.

 

With the light from his phone, he kept careful watch of the steps beneath his feet, keeping an eye out for any holes or gaps. When he got to the bottom, he avoided looking at the mouldy barrel, and spun his phone around to reveal as much of the room as possible. He didn’t see very much, but he did find a light switch on the wall behind him. Surprisingly, considering there was no electricity in the building above, it worked, and huge lengths of strip lights flickered on above him.

 

“Oh my god, what is this place?”

 

Feliciano’s mouth was agape, in surprise and in slight horror. The area was large – huge, even. Bigger than the building above it. Some sort of warehouse which the laboratory structure had been built on top of. Feliciano couldn’t guess how far it stretched. It wasn’t exactly a football pitch but it was far bigger than sports hall at his high school. Maybe two or three times that. For the three or four small rooms that made up the building above, the underground was extensive. That was the surprise, but the contents were the horror.

 

Cages.

 

Rows and rows of empty cages stretched far ahead of him. Some looked like they were made to house tigers in a zoo and some looked they were for nothing bigger than a hamster. And all around him, at the bottom of the steps, supplies. Collars, chains, nets, whips, stretchers, prods and poles, more buckets and barrels that Feliciano could now see were each labelled – ‘fish’, 'pinkies’, 'carrots’, 'bread’, 'bananas’, 'chicken’ and on and on. A lot of them mouldy, adding to the overpowering stench. Something – or, a lot, lot of things – had been kept down here. Feliciano didn’t know what to think, it was like a horror show and he felt a bit sick.

 

Only to distance himself from rotting food did Feliciano go further into the warehouse, but the cages, though thankfully empty, were not much more pleasant than what he had left behind. Most of them had floors encrusted in layers of stinking filth. There was plenty of drainage built into the floor, and extensions and taps for water hoses everywhere, but it was clear that even whilst the place was occupied they had not been made much use of.

 

The cages formed aisles, almost like he was in some twisted supermarket, so Feliciano’s scope was limited. Still, a large fish tank, all he could see of the very back wall from his current isle, caught his eye. It was much bigger than the kind you would find in a living room, more sized for a smaller display in an aquarium. In any case, it was very much out of place, and cautiously, Feliciano approached.

 

The closer he got, the clearer he could see through the murky glass, at his heart clenched in sadness at the gruesome sight. The aquarium was completely dried up,  the gravel littered with the decomposed carcasses of dead fish. It was a sad sight to see, as small a creature was a fish was, Feliciano still felt they didn’t deserve what had probably been such a traumatic fate.

 

_'But why were they keeping live fish?’_ Feliciano wondered to himself, ’ _Well, there’s nothing here anymore anyway. I should run away and call the police…or maybe just forget about this place all-together,’_ Feliciano rounded the last corner, intending to leave up a different aisle. Instead, with the entire back wall revealed to him, he froze, mouth opened in a horrified gasp.

 

“No…oh no,” he whimpered, backing up against one of the cages. He felt tears building, and soon he was crying – uncontrollably, a bad habit of his. They _left_ someone, they left someone to die. A mermaid, maybe a merman. It was hard to tell, they were facing away from him. It didn’t really matter. Feliciano could only stare, trembling from shock, at the corpse. The first corpse he had ever seen, and one that had suffered such a cruel and traumatic death.

 

No merperson should have been in captivity in the first place. There had been a time long ago when a mer-trade had boomed – the elite wanting them as pets or for show - but the retaliation came quickly. Soon, not a single ship was able to touch the sea without it being dragged down by armies of merfolk, the human crews drowned mercilessly. It was now law nearly everywhere on earth that merfolk be left alone, there had been _wars_ over the nations who had tried to continue the merfolk trade. Feliciano knew that where he lived in the US, at least, if a merperson was to be removed from the sea, or even harmed, the sentence would be hefty. Back home in Italy the laws had been even stricter. But, looking at the masses of cages around him, Feliciano felt that whoever had been running such an operation hadn’t cared for the law anyway.

 

But the poor creature, the poor, poor creature. Feliciano sobbed as he examined what he could, both from a distance and through the dirty glass. Had they been dehydrated or had they starved? They had been there for a long time, clearly, for their entire tank to have dried up. Their upper half – the human body – was nearly skeletal. At first Feliciano had thought that it _had_ been a skeleton, but after a second look he had realised there was still skin, and no decomposition yet. To look that bad, they must have gone through some serious, torturous starvation.

 

_'If they died recently, how long did they suffer down here?’_ Feliciano wondered, tears streaking his face, _'That’s not fair, why did they leave them behind?’_

 

In a daze, he found himself approaching the tank. It was small – only a little taller than Feliciano himself, and about as wide as he could stretch his arms. There would have been no room to swim, just…sit, float a little. The top was covered by a metal grate, locked. There was a cracked area in one corner of the tank, up high – the merperson had tried to punch their way out but hadn’t been successful. Feliciano winced, imagining a panicked and desperate figure beating against the glass, putting himself in the figure’s shoes and really _feeling_ himself in the same position. He pressed a tentative hand to the glass, and peered inside for a closer look, as miserable as the sight made him.

 

He couldn’t tell what colour the tail had been. It was just brown now, covered in a cloudy sheen, withered, looked like it would be dry to the touch. A big difference from the lustrous tails he saw in pictures and videos. Feliciano wasn’t a merperson, had never _met_ a merperson, but he was quite certain that being in such a state must have _hurt_. Whether the merperson had starved or dehydrated, it didn’t matter. The suffering would have been immense either way.

 

Movement. Feliciano jumped back, nearly dropped his phone before remembering that the tank was glass and he had a reflection. With a sigh – his sobs dying down – he decided it was time to leave. And call the police. Definitely call the police. Justice was needed for what had been done here.

 

He turned away, but there was movement again, movement that he only barely noticed out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t reflected in the glass anymore, not from his position. He whirled back around, rushed for the tank, nearly slammed himself against the glass. He pressed his face right into it, watched as attentively as he could. He fixed his eyes to the merperson’s back, and after a moment, thought that he saw their ribs expand and contract. Just a little, but he couldn’t be sure. Then, movement again, real movement. The merperson shifted a little, repositioned their head so that it was leaning against the glass in just a slightly different way. Feliciano gasped.

 

“You’re alive? You’re alive? How can you still be alive? I’ll get you help! Please hold on,”

 

There was no response from the merperson, not even a twitch, and Feliciano didn’t really have time to sit and wait for a sign. He needed to do something – the clock was clearly ticking on the creature’s life.

 

“Hose, where’s a hose,” Feliciano muttered to himself before spotting one curled up in a bucket. He followed it to the wall and turned the knob, desperately, as far as it would go. No water came at first, and Feliciano was about to run off and find another solution, when the hose suddenly exploded to life, spewing it’s water onto his feet. He grabbed it up in relief, noting that the water smelt incredibly stale. Probably held in a storage tank that had been too long unattended, not coming from the mainlines. Maybe so that it would be chlorine free. That was a good thing, a bit of stale water was likely a lot safer than human chemicals. With all the strength he could muster in his (unfortunately) weak arms, he jumped, hose swung around his shoulder and soaking his clothes. He only managed to keep himself pulled up at the top of the tank for a second, but it was just long enough to jam the nozzle in between the bars.

 

He stepped back with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t food or nourishment but it was water and hydration and that was probably the most important thing of all for an aquatic creature. With a start, Feliciano realised that the merperson had moved again, and was leaning towards him now. Merman, judging by his bone structure and the size of his eyebrows. Feliciano stared into an incredibly harrowed, hollowed, pale face, a face that had suffered immensely. It made his heart hurt. The merman was watching him through eyes barely cracked open, eyes that only remained that way for a moment before they closed again with a painful slowness.

 

“You’re going to be okay, I’m getting you help,” Feliciano had spoken softly, but he was sure the merman heard him, sure he saw the creature give the tiniest, weakest nod.

 

* * *

 

“Arthur! Arthur!” Feliciano was already calling for his aquatic friend as he raced into the room, however most of his enthusiasm was faked for the merman’s sake. Bobbing away at the top of the pool, waiting for him, was a blond merman, hair plastered to his head and green tail glittering below the water’s surface, “Are you excited? Today’s the day!”

 

The recovery of the dying merman from the underground bunker had been incredibly, incredibly slow. Given that he wasn’t expected to pull through at all, Feliciano was impressed anyway. It had been a rough first year for the little Italian as he waited for the all clear on the merman’s survival. His grandfather and his brother had both been horrified at the dangerous underground adventure he had taken that day, but Feliciano was only so, so grateful that those bullies had stolen his backpack, and therefore given him the opportunity to save his merman.

 

There were no records for the lab, and no records for the warehouse. The police had only been able to guess at what had happened, suggesting an illegal trade in mythical creatures. Most likely, the perpetrators had managed to risk blowing their cover in some way, and had moved on. The merman would have been a huge extra hassle to move, and was probably unsellable anyway with the owning of one being such a massive crime. So, without a single care about the suffering of the beings in their care, they had left him to a slow and torturous death.

 

For an entire week, the merman had had to stay in his tank in the warehouse – with merfolk able to take care of their own sick, wildlife centres did not have the resources – or more, the aquarium space – to take care of him. Yet, he was far, far, far too unwell to dump in the sea and leave, so eventually a space was found for him at a marine rescue centre. Feliciano was upset that it was so far from his home, but his grandfather had given him a sympathetic pat on the head.

 

“Never mind, little one. I’m sure the staff are friendly, you can try to phone them regularly. I’ll drive you up whenever I can if you want to check on how your little merman is getting on,”

 

Feliciano had been enthusiastic about the plan, and had stuck to it. He visited the merman as often as he could, even though he had spent the entire first year near comatose. It was a while after that year, nearly into the second, when the merman was beginning to regain control of his body, when he was halfway back to a healthy wait, and when the greys and browns of his damaged tail were turning into what Feliciano guessed was their natural greens, that the merman first spoke, rasping and pained.

 

“My name is Arthur. Thank you, Feliciano,”

 

It had been one of the best days of Feliciano’s life. But now he was facing one of the sadder ones. Happy in a way – they were doing what was right, they had reached the goal they had been aiming for for the five years since Feliciano had found Arthur. The merman was at full health, full strength, could look after himself, was ready to be released back into the ocean where he belonged. He had been well cared for and had plenty of room at the marine centre, but even Feliciano had to admit that it was still just a pool, no better than a tank, still a cage, still not what Arthur deserved

 

Feliciano was just glad that he got to be there when Arthur was released. He was still at college, but he was studying for marine biology – at the encouragement of some of the researchers at the rescue centre. It wasn’t exactly a natural talent he had, but he was willing to work for it anyway. The workers here were close to family for him with all the time he had spent visiting Arthur. They wanted him here, were happy to hire him for some side jobs whilst he studied, had already offered him employment for after his graduation. Usually, someone untrained would not be allowed to witness an event such as a release, but for Feliciano, the staff had managed to manipulate an exception.

 

In response to Feliciano’s question, Arthur only smiled sadly. “I guess,” he shrugged, flipping his fin absent mindedly and refusing to make eye contact. It was obvious that something was wrong, and Feliciano reached for his friend’s cheek, stroking it gently.

 

“Arthur, what’s wrong? Don’t you want to go home?”

 

Arthur frowned, bringing a webbed hand up to cover his friend’s. “I do, I want to see my home again, I need to be free again. But…”

 

Feliciano waited patiently, knowing it was best to not try and force an answer. Arthur was very touchy about his emotions and it was rare that he would open up.

 

“…I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t remember my family, I don’t know if I’ll find a tribe who will take me in. I know I have to go back, but I don’t want to be alone. Up here, I have friends. I have Lukas and Kiku, even that idiot Alfred. Most importantly, I have you. Feliciano…I don’t think there’s another human or merperson who could ever match up to you,”

 

The look in Arthur’s eyes, now meeting his own, made Feliciano feel strange. Strange, but also warm

 

“I understand, Arthur. I don’t want you to go either. But it’s what has to happen. So we just both have to be strong and think of all the good things about this, not the bad things, okay?”

 

Arthur gave a small smile and nodded back, “Okay, Feliciano. If it’s you who’s telling me to do so, I’ll be happy today,”

 

“And Arthur, just remember, this isn’t goodbye. I know we won’t be able to see each other every day but we have the rocks by the north cliff. They’re just a little bit away from where you’re being released, I can point it out to you then. Every full moon, every new moon. Once the sun has set, meet me there,”

 

Arthur’s face lit up with that, and Feliciano sighed internally. Arthur had a naturally pessimistic nature and probably thought that this was the end of their friendship, “Yes, I’ll be there, every time, I promise, Feliciano. Do you promise too?”

 

“Of course I promise, silly Arthur,” Feliciano giggled as he petted the merman’s cheek. Arthur just about glowed under his touch, “You’re my best friend. After everything, it’s going to take more than an ocean to keep us apart,”

 

Arthur nodded with a soft smile. “Much more than an ocean,”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading <3


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